


i think we've loved a thousand lives

by illvminate



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: (kind of?), Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Industrial Revolution, M/M, Middle Ages, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Renaissance Era, Roaring 20s, Slow Burn, probably a bunch of historical inaccuracies, undiagnosed depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illvminate/pseuds/illvminate
Summary: “What? I’m just saying, the probability of actually meeting your soulmate would be tiny, right?”“No,” Matteo defiantly says. “That’s not how itworks.”“How does it work then?” David chuckles, tracing the shell of Matteo’s ear with his finger.Matteo shrugs and props his head on one hand to look at David. “When you’re soulmates you always find each other, eventually. In every life.”(Or: a soulmate AU in which David and Matteo fall in love in different eras leading up to the present)





	1. middle ages

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is basically an excuse to write the boys in period clothing and experiment with different eras lmao
> 
> title is from "same soul" by pvris which i highly recommend you check out because it high-key inspired this fic. i hope you enjoy!

Matteo hated nights like this.

The inn was buzzing with people, the air hot and thick with the stench of sweat and the smoke from the fireplace, making Matteo’s hair stick to his forehead. His ears were ringing with the deafening laughter and drunken shouts; the storm that was raging on outside seemed to have only blown in the most rowdy sort of men, the kind that refused to pay and knocked over drinks and got into fist fights when they lost a game of dice. There was a pair in the very corner of the room that looked seconds away from going at each other’s throats and Matteo’s insides twisted with dread at the idea of having to break them up.

His eyes were so fixed on the two that he only noticed the new arrival when he was already leaning against the bar counter in front of him.

“Good day,” the person said, drawing Matteo’s attention to him.

Matteo froze a little when his eyes landed on his face. The boy in front of him looked different than all the other men who frequented his parent’s inn. He was young, probably around Matteo’s age, with long lashes and dark curls peeking out from beneath his hat, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

One of his eyebrows rose when Matteo didn’t respond, prompting him to quickly rush out, “Good day. Would you like to have something to drink?”

The boy’s gaze drifted over to the barrels behind Matteo and his nose scrunched up a little in distaste. “Ale, I suppose?”

Matteo only shrugged in response, his eyes still tracking the way a rain drop slowly travelled down the other boy’s cheek.

“Fine,” the boy finally said. “I’ll have some ale.”

Matteo nodded, jerkily turning around. His neck was prickling with the weight of the other boy’s stare as he filled a wooden mug with ale.

He almost jumped when he heard his voice again. “I know it’s quite late, but… is there still anything left to eat? I haven’t had a meal in hours.”

“Uhm…” Matteo muttered, turning around again and gingerly placing the mug down on the counter. “I think we might still have some bread. Is that enough?”

“Bread is perfect,” the boy immediately said.

Matteo nodded. “Alright.”

He could still feel the boy’s eyes on him as he turned around and rushed towards the kitchen. His mother was already preparing the stew for the next day and looked questioningly at him as he hurriedly searched the cabinets for the last remains of bread that he was sure were still there. What he came up with wasn’t much, but he tried his best to cut it into even slices and even added some butter and salt.

By the time he returned to the bar, the boy had taken off his coat and his hat and was idly glancing around the inn.

“Here,” Matteo said as he set the plate down in front of him, hoping that the boy didn’t notice how out of breath he sounded.

The other boy’s lips curled into a grin as he looked first at the slices of bread and then up at Matteo. “Thank you. You’re my hero.”

Matteo didn’t say anything, but he could feel a matching smile taking over his face, quietly pleased. He watched the boy’s face intently as he took a first bite.

“Mhh,” he moaned, closing his eyes with a content expression. “So good. Who baked this?”

Matteo hesitated for a second before he quietly said, “I did.”

The boy’s eyes opened again, his grin widening. “My hero,” he repeated.

Matteo felt a little bit dizzy under the other boy’s gaze. Trying his best to keep his voice from cracking, he said, “You can call me Matteo.”

“Nice to meet you, Matteo,” the boy responded, amusement flickering across his face. “My name is David.”

_David_. Matteo had the sudden urge to speak his name out loud, taste the way it rolled off his tongue, but he settled for silently watching David eat instead.

His throat went a little dry as he studied him; the raindrops still clinging to his impossibly long eyelashes, the flush still high on his cheeks, the dark hair curling against his forehead from the humidity. Now that he had stripped off his coat, Matteo could see the shirt he had on underneath, white and made of linen that looked much finer than the scratchy clothes Matteo was wearing. It fit loosely, the neckline dipping down just enough to reveal an elegantly curved collarbone.

_Elegantly curved collarbone? _What in God’s name was he thinking?

Clearing his throat a little, Matteo asked, “So… what brings you here?”

David looked up from his plate, raising an eyebrow at him. “The storm,” he said matter-of-factly. “It isn’t exactly perfect riding weather and this inn was the only shelter in sight.”

“No, I mean…” Matteo began, feeling his cheeks heating up. “Are you on your way into town?”

David nodded. “Yes. The market is tomorrow.”

Matteo hummed in response. He had never been to the market, or to the town. His father usually went there every week; he left in the early morning hours and came back a day or two later with sacks of wheat and oats and apples which were to be used to cook for the inn, sometimes even with cinnamon and cloves. Matteo had never been allowed to come with him. He was too much of a hindrance, his father had said. And besides, his mother needed him here.

“So you’re a merchant?”

“A merchant’s apprentice,” David corrected, lips tugging up into a small smile. “What about you? Do you always work here?”

Matteo nodded. “Yes. It is my father’s inn and I’m his only son, so…” he trailed off.

David nodded understandingly.

Matteo wanted to say more, wanted to keep talking to this boy with the knowing smile and the look of adventure in his eyes, but he didn’t know what else to say.

David was done eating much quicker than Matteo secretly wished. Fishing a small leather pouch out of his pocket, he asked, “How much do I owe you?”

Matteo didn’t know what made him say it, but before he could think better of it, he muttered, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” David incredulously repeated.

With one hand he produced two silver coins and made a move to hand them to Matteo, but he quickly reached over the bar, covering David’s hand with his. “I don’t want your money,” he said, his eyes darting over to the men that were staring at them from the other side of the room. Hastily withdrawing his hand, he added, “And if I were you, I would be careful about flashing your coins like this in here.”

David frowned, but slowly put the leather pouch away. “What do you want then?”

Matteo considered it for a moment before he said, “A story.”

“A story?”

“Yes. Tell me about… tell me about your travels.”

David seemed to think about it for a moment before he braced his elbows on the counter separating them, leaning forward slightly. “What do you want to know?”

_Everything_, Matteo thought. “What did you see on your journey here?” he asked instead.

“A lot,” David said with a chuckle. “I’m from up North, just behind the mountains. Up there, there’s a lot of woods. Just hours and hours of riding through the forest. When you’re there in the morning hours, you often see deer, sometimes even moose. It’s really peaceful there and the rivers that run there are cold and clear. I like to bathe in them sometimes, when it’s warm.”

Matteo could feel heat creeping up his neck as images of David’s naked torso glittering wet in the sunlight filled his head.

Luckily, David didn’t seem to notice and continued, “Once you’re out of the woods, the first villages come into view. I usually spend the night in one of the inns there. Then, the next day, I try to reach the town while it’s still light out.”

“What is it like in town?” Matteo asked.

David tilted his head at him in question. “Have you never been there?”

Matteo only shook his head.

“Well… it’s full. The streets are narrow and everyone seems to be in a hurry, especially when the market is taking place. It’s dirty, too. And loud.”

“So you don’t like it?”

David shrugged. “I prefer travelling through the countryside where the land is quiet and open, but the market is always quite interesting. There are dozens of stands with all sorts of goods, all arranged around the small well in the middle of the town square.” He let out an amused chuckle. “There was a merchant there a while back who tried to charge people for going near it. Said it was a wishing well and that you had to pay to make a wish there.”

“And?” Matteo asked, cradling his chin in one hand. “Did you make a wish?”

David shook his head with a quiet snort. “No. The man was a swindler. And besides, I don’t believe in those things. It’s just a well.”

“Oh,” Matteo quietly muttered, training his eyes on one of the dents in the wooden counter.

There were a few seconds of silence that was only broken by the crackling of the fire and the loud racket from the drunkards loitering around the inn.

Finally, David asked, “What would you have wished for?”

“To get away from here,” Matteo softly said.

“Hm. I know the feeling,” David muttered. “That’s why I’m travelling from town to town every week.”

“I wish I could do that, too,” Matteo said, finally looking up. “It’s just… I was born here and I’ll probably stay here all my life to run the inn. I feel like everything I know about the world is only through the stories that people like you tell me when they come here. But I want to see it myself. I want to see the market and the woods and the other villages with my own eyes, not through others people’s.”

Matteo shut his mouth, afraid he had said too much. He usually didn’t speak this much, let alone with strangers, but there was something about David that made the words spill out of his mouth before he could think twice about them.

David’s voice was softer than before as he said, “I’m sorry. I’d take you into town with me, but…”

“I can’t,” Matteo murmured. “My mother would die of worry.”

They were both silent for a moment. Finally, Matteo asked, “Will you stay here tonight?”

David shook his head. “No. I have to get to the town by dawn. I should have left here as soon as I was finished eating.”

“But the storm…” Matteo meekly said.

“It has quieted down already,” David said after listening closely for a moment. If Matteo wasn’t mistaken, there was a trace of regret in his voice.

“Then at least allow me to show you to the stable?” Matteo requested.

David responded with a nod and a small smile and followed Matteo as he got out from behind the counter and led the way.

Matteo only glanced over his shoulder once more to make sure his father wasn’t anywhere in sight. He would kill him if he saw Matteo leaving the inn unattended, even if it was only for a moment.

Matteo could hear David’s steps behind him as he made his way towards the stable that was a little ways away from the inn. David had been right; the storm had quieted down and was now merely a breeze, the rain nothing but a light drizzle.

When they reached it, the stable boy was nowhere to be seen. Matteo watched as David led his horse- a sleek black mare that immediately obeyed his hushed commands- outside. He stopped a few inches away from Matteo, his hat in one hand and the reins in the other.

“Thank you for the food and drink,” David said.

“Thank you for the company,” Matteo replied. In the dark, he could see David’s small smile and he suddenly felt like begging him to stay, like gripping onto his sleeve like a child and refuse to let him go. Instead, he only quietly asked, “Will you return?”

“Of course,” David said, his voice soft. “After all, I’ve never eaten better bread.”

Matteo was surprised at the quiet laugh that slipped past his own lips at that, but not as surprised as when David suddenly reached over and placed his hat on top of his head.

With his now free hand, he took one of Matteo’s. “May I?”

Matteo’s breath caught in his throat. All he could do was nod, his eyes still locked with David’s as he gently lifted one of Matteo’s to his mouth and pressed a fleeting kiss to his knuckles. “Farewell, Matteo.”

“Farewell,” Matteo whispered, too late and too quiet for the other boy to hear.

He recognized the hat for what it was; a reminder, a promise to be back. Pressing it to his chest, Matteo watched as David rode away, his silhouette growing smaller and smaller until the night swallowed him whole.


	2. renaissance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, updating this only took five years lmao. writing this chapter was so much fun though, so i really hope you'll enjoy it!! :)

David had never cared much for the church, if he was being honest. He had grown up in a family that wasn’t particularly religious, had only been to mass a handful of times over the past few years, couldn’t remember the last time he had prayed in earnest- and now he was balancing on a makeshift scaffold painting a myriad of angels on the ceiling of a church and hating every second of it.

His neck was hurting from having to tilt his head back the entire time, his arms numb from having them up above his head for so long and, as if that wasn’t bad enough already, his face was covered in paint specks and dust. However, the worst thing by far was the fact that at any given moment, someone could come in and interrupt him.

He had argued with the priest, _pleaded_ for him to just close the church for the time being, just long enough so that David could finish this wretched mural, but to no avail. The church, the priest had said, was a place of refuge and solace and as such had to remain open at all times.

David didn’t feel very solaced. _Furious_ was a better description for his current emotional state, especially when he heard the door to the church opening for what felt like the twentieth time that day, followed by a horde of footsteps and loud chatter.

David had to take a deep breath in order to stop himself from screaming when he remembered. Thursday afternoon. The church choir had come to practice.

They assembled quickly and, after the choirmaster bid them to be quiet, began to sing. It was some kind of hymn that David wasn’t familiar with, harmonious and solemn. Their voices echoed from the walls of the church- beautiful, but as distracting as anything could be.

Gritting his teeth, David went back to painting the cherub’s rosy cheeks. He couldn’t afford to lose focus. After all, this was a fresco he was crafting; he had to work quick enough for the plaster that served as the base not to dry and if he made a mistake, the entire day’s layer of plaster would have to be removed.

He had just managed to concentrate again, when the door burst open a second time, the loud noise startling enough to almost make the hand that was guiding the paint brush slip.

Looking down to glare at the cause of the disruption, David spotted a choirboy with tousled blond hair and a decidedly ruffled appearance rushing to stand with the rest of the choir.

The other boys had stopped singing; some of them snickered quietly when the choirmaster called out, “Late yet again, Mr. Florenzi. What is your excuse this time?”

“I am afraid I got lost on the way here, master,” the boy said. Although he was soft-spoken, David could hear the teasing lilt to his words. “I am but a poor fellow from the countryside, I do not know the winding streets of this town as well as you do. I promise I will try to find my way around better next time.”

The choirmaster let out a huff. “You have lived here your entire life, Mr. Florenzi. Do not think you can fool me.” David expected him to add something else, a firm reprimand or a threat of possible consequences, but instead, he only waved a hand and said, “Once again from the start, please.”

David wanted to turn around and continue his work, he really did. Instead he found himself listening closely to the singing that filled the church once again. It sounded different this time. Brighter, livelier. He realized that it was the new boy’s doing when he was suddenly singing a different melody that contrasted what the rest of the choir was singing.

His voice rose above the rest, airy and light and completely enchanting. From where David was standing he couldn’t see the boy’s face, but from up on his scaffold it looked like it was completely effortless for him. One song blended into another and another and another and David couldn’t stop listening.

He was so entranced that he all but flinched when the choir master announced that practice was over and that the boys could go home.

David directed his gaze at his half-finished mural on the ceiling again, listening as the boys filed out of the church. The silence that spread in their place seemed suffocating after almost an hour of uninterrupted singing.

Every sound he made seemed louder now; the slight creak of the scaffold as he moved, the sound of his brush against the plaster… and then his hissed curse as he realised that, while he had been distracted, the plaster had already begun to dry.

“Are those really the words a god-fearing man should speak in a church?”

David flinched so violently he almost lost his balance. Gripping tightly onto one of the wooden bars the scaffold consisted of, he looked down to spot who had spoken. He blinked in surprise when he saw the boy with the blond hair from earlier staring back at him. He was lying on one of the pews, his legs dangling off one side and his arms folded behind his head. David wasn’t sure, but he thought he could make out the hint of a grin twitching around his lips.

“I thought everyone had left,” David said with a frown.

“Does not mean that the lord above can’t hear you,” the other boy responded, lazily jerking his chin towards the ceiling. Yes, that was definitely a grin.

David looked up again, exasperated. All he wanted was to finish this cursed bit of ceiling and go home to wash the paint off his skin and go to bed instead of-

“My name is Matteo, by the way,” the boy said.

“David,” he sighed in response. “Why are you here?”

He could faintly hear a quiet chuckle. “Isn’t that what we all want to know?”

David lowered his gaze only to roll his eyes at the boy. “Why are you still _in this church_ after choir practice?”

Matteo shrugged. “I like it here. It’s peaceful. Quiet.”

“Not with you around it’s not,” David grumbled. The words came out sounding harsher than intended and he knew he had made a mistake when in response the other boy blinked once, the grin suddenly slipping off his face.

“I did not mean to disturb you,” he softly said, his motions jerky as he got to his feet. “I will be on my way.”

He was gone before David could reply.

***

David didn’t care, or at least that was what he told himself. The boy was just a stranger that he had happened to upset; it really shouldn’t matter to him.

The truth was, it did.

The look on the other boy’s face as he had turned around to leave was etched into his memory, his eyes clouded with hurt and something like disappointment, his Adam’s apple bobbing with how hard he had swallowed.

By the time the next Thursday rolled around the guilt in the pit of his stomach had grown claws. He could feel them scratching at his insides, slowly tearing him apart, and when the door opened and Matteo hurried inside, punctual this time, he could feel them sinking in just a little deeper.

David stared adamantly at him, willing him to look up. When he finally did, they met eyes for only a few seconds before Matteo lowered his gaze and went to stand in his usual spot.

This time, David didn’t even try to focus on his work. Instead, he sat down on the scaffold and watched the choir, unable to tear his eyes away from the tousled mop of golden hair in its midst. Matteo’s voice sounded even more beautiful than it had in David’s memory. It was delicate and haunting, a siren’s song that David couldn’t stop from pulling him in.

Practice ended all too soon; before he knew it, the choirboys began to leave, chatting and laughing. Matteo was the only one who hung back a little. He was almost at the door when David finally gathered the courage to call, “Matteo! Please wait.”

Matteo stopped in his tracks immediately, the look on his face somewhere between surprise and doubt. “What do you want?”

Scrambling to his feet, David said, “I want to apologise. The way I spoke to you when we last met was not right.”

Matteo frowned, taking a few steps down the aisle, away from the door. “How so?”

“I did not mean to hurt you,” David quietly said. “It wasn’t you who angered me, but I let my anger out on you. I acted rash, and for that I want to apologize.”

David held his breath as the other boy studied him for a few seconds. Finally, Matteo said, “I forgive you.” Gesturing at David, he added, “I suppose it is part of being, you know… a brooding, misunderstood artist.”

This time, it was David’s turn to blink in surprise. “What?”

“Well, you know…” Matteo stepped a bit closer to the scaffold that David was still standing on. And there was that grin again; it was a broad, mischievous thing that lit up his face and made his eyes twinkle. “You’re always standing up there with a frown, not wanting to talk to anyone… Makes it seem like you’re either shy or stuck up.”

“I’m neither!” David immediately protested. “And I do _not_ not want to talk to anyone-“

“So you just didn’t want to talk to _me_?” Matteo retorted, still grinning.

“No! I was simply having a bad day!”

The teasing on Matteo’s face turned into curiosity. “Why?”

“Because…” David began, gesturing at the ceiling. “This is not what I envisioned. I didn’t work so hard to become an artist just to paint the damned ceiling of a church I do not even visit.”

Matteo looked up at him for a few seconds, pondering. Finally, he moved to climb the scaffold, ignoring David’s protests. It wasn’t very graceful, but eventually he managed to hoist himself all the way up. Once he was standing, he tilted his head back to study the mural above and said, “If it makes you feel any better, I think that you are doing a good job. I like it when you… put the paint on the other stuff. It looks good.”

“It’s called a fresco,” David murmured, unable to hold back a smile.

“Right,” Matteo chuckled, his cheeks tinting the faintest touch of pink as he grinned sheepishly at David.

It was only in that moment that David realized that this was the closest that they had ever been. Last time, David had stood up here while Matteo was on the ground. Now he was standing right next to him, close enough for David to be able to make out the colour of his eyes; they were the same shade of light blue as the painted sky that was spanning above them.

“Either way…” Matteo said, clearing his throat a little as he tore his eyes away from David’s. “I think you’re good.”

David scrunched up his nose, looking up at the fresco again. “I don’t know.”

“You are,” Matteo insisted. “You have talent.”

“You do, too,” David said, hoping that Matteo could tell he meant it. “I have never heard anybody sing like that.”

Matteo looked over at him again, his eyes a little wide in surprise, like this was the first time someone gave him a compliment. When David met his gaze, he quickly looked down at his shoes instead. David could make out the tiniest of smiles as he murmured, “Thank you.”

David couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“So… how much longer do you think you will be working on this?” Matteo eventually asked, pointing at the ceiling again.

“At least another two months,” David said. “Maybe even longer.”

Matteo’s smile widened.

***

David started going to mass. Not to pray or to listen to the sermon -in fact, if anyone had asked him about it afterwards, he wouldn’t have been able to recite a single word. He would, however, have been able to describe exactly where Matteo was standing, during which songs he sang the loudest, how the light streaming through the stained-glass windows looked when it caught in his hair.

Matteo spotted David the moment he began to walk down the aisle with the other choirboys, his lips curling into a disbelieving smile.

It was the first time that David could see Matteo’s face while he was singing and wasn’t just observing from up high. Amid the other boys, who all looked rather enthusiastic, some even passionate, Matteo appeared almost bored. He had his hands folded before him and his eyes raised to the ceiling, his expression smooth even while his voice chased goose bumps down David’s arms.

David’s feet carried him in Matteo’s direction as soon as the service was over, but he ground to a halt when someone else beat him to it. From where he was standing he watched as a woman with long brown hair and a flowing blue dress pulled Matteo into her arms and whispered something into his hair that made him smile.

They left the church together, the woman’s arm linked with Matteo’s, pulling him along while Matteo glanced over his shoulder once more to send David an apologetic look.

***

“Good morrow, your Grace,” Matteo called out, dropping down into an exaggerated curtsy. “May I humbly request an audience with you?”

David lowered the paint brush in his hand, blinking down at him in surprise. “It’s not Thursday.”

Matteo only grinned, his head still tilted back to look up at him. “Why, does your majesty only speak to commoners once a week?”

David couldn’t quite hold back a smile. “Tell me what you want, commoner, and I will consider it.”

“All I desire is your delightful company, my lord,” Matteo said. Lifting a basket that David hadn’t noticed he was holding, he added, “And I brought food.”

“A compelling argument,” David chuckled. “Do you want to come up or shall I come down?”

Matteo hesitated for a moment before he walked towards the scaffold. David leaned down as far as possible to receive the basket that Matteo held out for him.

Matteo’s climb wasn’t any more graceful than it had been the last time, but something about his clumsy movements and the little grunts he let out as he struggled to pull himself up was oddly charming. Once he was within reach, David held out a hand to help him which Matteo accepted without hesitation.

He was slightly out of breath by the time he finally stood in front of David and murmured, “Well met.”

“Well met,” David repeated with a laugh that sounded just as breathless even though he had barely moved. He suddenly became aware that he was still holding onto Matteo’s hand and forced himself to let go. “Uhm… You brought food?”

“Uh… yes,” Matteo quickly said, moving to sit cross-legged on the wooden planks. With one hand, he lifted the cloth that was covering the contents of the basket.

David sank down next to him. His eyes widened when he leaned over and peeked inside, being met with a dizzying amount of bread and even little pastries. “Goodness,” he breathed. “How much did all of this cost you?”

“Nothing,” Matteo grinned, adding, “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t _steal_ anything. I am training to become a baker. These were left over yesterday.”

David laughed quietly. “Well, thank you. You really did not have to.”

“No,” Matteo agreed. “But I wanted to. You’re always so focused on your work up here, I’m afraid you forget to eat.”

David didn’t disagree and gladly accepted the pastry that Matteo handed to him. It was filled with something rich and sweet that made him close his eyes in bliss.

When he opened them again, he found Matteo still looking at him. “So, uhm…” Matteo quietly said. “I never saw you in mass before.”

David shook his head. “No. I am not the most devoted Christian, I’m afraid.”

“Neither am I,” Matteo replied.

“You’re not?” David laughed. “Matteo, you sing in the church choir.”

Matteo lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his eyes directed at the ceiling as his hands plucked at the pastry in his hands. “I do, but only because I know it cheers my mother. I probably would have never set foot into this church otherwise.”

David was silent for a moment, too caught up studying the slope of Matteo’s nose to answer. When he finally did speak, his voice was hushed. “I am glad you did.”

The corner of Matteo’s mouth ticked up into a smile that was much more timid than the grin that David was used to. “Me too.”

David couldn’t tear his eyes away from Matteo’s face. Looking at him made something sugary and sweet settle into his stomach that he was sure had nothing to do with the pastry.

When the silence dragged on for too long, Matteo abruptly got to his feet. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at a bucket on the far end of the scaffold.

“Plaster,” David replied, standing up as well. “It’s used as the foundation for the fresco.”

Matteo hummed like he understood and bent down to pick up one of David’s paint brushes. Waving it about in a dramatic gesture he announced, “My name is David, but you may also refer to me as _the greatest artist of all time_. Please do not attempt to speak to me while I am working, for I _will_ snap at you. Painting a bunch of clouds and naked boys on a ceiling is very serious business and shall not be rushed, so I advise you to keep your distance lest you-“

“They’re not naked,” David objected, “They’re wearing loincloths!”

“Oh David, there’s nothing more attractive than the word _loincloth_ from your mouth,” Matteo teased, something that sounded almost like a giggle bubbling from his lips.

David felt his cheeks heating up. Too flustered to respond, he stepped forward and snatched the brush from Matteo’s grasp. “You’re a menace, Matteo Florenzi,” he said, tapping the brush against his nose.

Matteo only laughed, unconcerned, and wiped the paint off his face with his sleeve. “You like it.”

Saying _no _would have been a lie, so all that David did was snort.

Matteo was still standing close to him, smiling, before he shook his head slightly. “I should probably head home,” he said, “My mother is expecting me to be back for dinner.”

David nodded, his fingers nervously twirling the paint brush. He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should shake Matteo’s hand in farewell or do something else entirely.

In the end, Matteo made the decision for him.

David drew in a sharp breath when he stepped forward and pressed his lips to his cheek, the touch light as a feather. It was only for a heartbeat, but it was enough to make his knees weak.

Matteo stepped back with a small smile. “Until Thursday.”

“Yeah,” David breathed, one hand instinctively coming up to touch the spot that Matteo’s lips had brushed a moment earlier. “Until Thursday.”

From up on the scaffold he watched as Matteo climbed back down, hands in his pockets and humming quietly to himself as he strolled down the aisle. It was only after the door had fallen shut behind him that David noticed that he had left the basket, still half-full, there for him.

***

David took his time finishing the fresco.

Long enough to memorize all the different laughs that he could coax out of Matteo, depending on the day.

Long enough for Matteo to invite him home for dinner with his mother.

Long enough to learn how easily their hands fit together, how soft his hair was when it slipped through his fingers, how his lips felt against his cheek and mouth and neck.

It was only when the fresco was completely finished and they stood between the pews together, heads tilted towards the ceiling, that David realized that somewhere along the way, all his angels had started looking like Matteo.


	3. industrial revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowowow this chapter turned out much longer than expected. i meant to post this one much sooner, but exams got in the way. anyway, i hope you enjoy!! much love xx

This was what Matteo’s world shrank down to; the heat, the banging of the machines, the yells of the other workers. Yarn running between his fingertips. The burning of his throat and lungs from the polluted air getting worse as the day dragged on.

There were no windows, so the only way of knowing what time it was once you were inside the factory was by looking at the big clock that hung high on the wall. In order to see it, Matteo had to turn all the way around, and he had to do it quickly to avoid attracting the attention of one of the supervisors or losing track of the workings of his machine.

A glance over his shoulder told him that it was almost one o’ clock. Not only did that mean that half of Matteo’s shift was over, but also that in a few minutes, someone from the warehouseman’s staff would come by to collect the finished yarn.

Aside from his break, this was the moment that Matteo looked forward to the most during the work day. Because that was when he would see David.

It wasn’t always him; there were different workers rotating across the floors of the factory and it wasn’t seldom that shifts were swapped. But Matteo had paid attention and had figured out that one p.m. was when it was usually David who came to this floor.

Matteo wasn’t sure what it was about David that made him the focal point of his days. Maybe it was the way that David greeted him by name. Or maybe it was the way that, no matter how tired he seemed, he always had a smile to spare for Matteo.

Either way, waiting for him to come around had turned into a ritual that Matteo found himself repeating every day. Naturally, he wasn’t the only one. Everyone liked David, especially the children, so Matteo usually knew he was coming when he heard the first excited murmurs.

Sure enough, he saw David and another carrier making their way across the floor only a few moments later.

At the same time that he spotted them, Colin, one of the little boys that worked the machine with Matteo, shouted, “David’s here!”

Matteo nodded, turning around to avoid staring at him as he made his way towards them. “I know.”

He focused on his machine for a few moments, making sure no threads were broken and that everything was running smoothly, before he heard David’s voice behind him. “Good day.”

“Mediocre day at best,” Matteo said, turning around to shoot him a lopsided smile.

David was wearing the same clothes as always; some brown trousers with suspenders and a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. In his arms he was carrying a large basket, already filled half-way with finished cops of yarn. Raising one of his eyebrows, he asked, “What? Are you not enjoying yourself?”

Matteo had to snort in response, to which David’s lips curled into a small smile. “Hey, it could always be worse.”

“How?” Matteo asked, sending him a blank stare.

David shrugged and jerked his chin to indicate the basket in his hands. “You could spend all day carrying these.”

It was meant as a joke, but Matteo recognized the very real frustration simmering beneath the smoothness of his voice. He wanted to say something else, but before he could think of anything, one of the supervisors snapped at David to continue to the next machine. Matteo hurriedly helped David transfer his yarn into the basket, trying not to linger too long when his fingers accidentally brushed the other boy’s.

“Only seven more hours to go,” David said with a wry smile before making his way towards the next machine.

Matteo’s eyes followed him for a moment before he took a deep breath and returned to his work.

***

Matteo had started working at the factory when he was fourteen. He had started out like most boys did; working as a little piecer, whose job it was to tie up broken threads and clean the machines since they were the only ones small enough to easily crawl beneath the yarn sheet.

Then, once he had turned seventeen, he had become a minder at a machine called the spinning mule. The job required some skill, which Matteo, nimble-fingered as he was, was lucky to have.

In the beginning, Matteo hadn’t hated being a minder. It was challenging enough to at least make it a little bit less repetitive than some other jobs around the factory and he was earning more than he had before, ten shillings a week if he did well.

But the novelty of the new position had soon begun to fade. Every day was the same; he got up, let the grey wave of workers sweep him along to the factory where he then went through the same motions for fourteen hours with no longer than half an hour of break. By the time he got home in the evening, he was usually too tired to do more than stumble into his bed, only for it all to start again the next day.

Then he had seen David for the first time. Only for a few seconds, in passing; they had met eyes one morning as they entered the factory, David’s lips lifting into a fleeting smile before he hurried down to the warehouse.

From that moment on, something seemed to change. Matteo had something to hold on to, something to look forward to when he forced himself out of bed in the morning. Suddenly, he always seemed to be searching for him; even when he wasn’t consciously doing it, he would find himself spotting David at the other side of the room and something in him would settle.

Matteo wasn’t stupid. He knew that nothing could come of it. The city was no place for love, least of all this kind, the one that made people murmur and stare, the one that was reserved for dimly lit alleys where no one would spot you.

But looking, Matteo thought, looking had to be allowed. Looking and smiling and talking quietly under the veil of the racket around them was more than enough.

***

The next day was a Saturday. Matteo could feel the tension in the air, like a thread of yarn pulled hard enough that it threatened to snap in half. It wasn’t anything unusual; they all had a long week behind them, so naturally everyone was exhausted.

Usually, Matteo tried not to let it bother him, but today he found himself feeling just as agitated. The reason wasn’t only the work., it was the fact that it was almost three o’ clock and David hadn’t shown up yet.

Turning back to his machine, he watched as one of the two little boys he worked the machine with quickly slipped beneath the sheet of yarn to fix a yarn breakage. No matter how many times this happened, Matteo still found himself holding his breath every time. The spinning mule consisted of two parts, one moving continuously back and forth, away from and then back to the other part. The children had to find the broken thread and fix it within fifteen seconds- if they didn’t, they could be crushed by the machine.

In his head, Matteo counted silently. _Twelve, eleven, ten, nine…_

The boy ducked out from beneath the yarn on _eight_ and Matteo released a breath. Colin and Timmy were ten and twelve years old and they were _his_ responsibility. While other workers seemed unaffected whenever one of their boys happened to get hurt, Matteo’s stomach turned at the idea of anything happening to the two.

A moment later the sheet of yarn was finished and the boys began collecting the finished cops while Matteo worked on fixing the threads for a new set onto the spindles of the machines. The task was mindless work at this point, so he let his gaze wander around the factory.

His eyes idly drifted over to the supervisors and the other workers- that was, until he noticed what was going on at the machine next to his. The minder -Matteo had no idea what his name was- and his two boys were cleaning it. This meant that the machine was stopped so that the boys could slip under the yarn sheet and clean the entire thing. Only when both boys were finished and in safe distance from the machine was it to be started again.

Matteo saw it all happening slowly, as if time was standing still for a few seconds. One boy was already standing next to the machine, the other was still between the two components, crawling around beneath the yarn sheet. Matteo watched in disbelief as the worker shouted something and moved to start the machine up again without paying the boy still cleaning it any mind.

“Hey!” Matteo shouted, “Someone’s still in there!”

The man only briefly looked in his direction before resuming, either not hearing him or not feeling like he was the one being addressed.

Matteo was running before he even made the conscious decision to move. One moment he was just watching, the next he was pushing the man away from his machine. “Are you trying to kill him?” he yelled, pushing the guy another step back for good measure. “One of your boys is still in there!”

The man paled, but in the same second batted Matteo’s hands away. “Don’t touch me, boy,” he snarled. “I didn’t see him, alright?”

“That’s because you weren’t looking!” Matteo snapped, his voice hoarse. “You’re responsible for these children. Don’t you think working here is dangerous enough for them? You have to _pay attention_ to them. You have to keep them safe!”

“Hey, you! That’s enough!” Matteo’s head snapped up to see one of the supervisors glaring at him. “Back to your machine or that’s two shillings less for taking an unpermitted break.”

Matteo blinked at him, incredulous. “I’m- I’m not taking a break,” he stammered. “I told him that his boy was still in there, I didn’t-“

The supervisor cut him off before he could finish. “And now I am telling you to go back to your machine! Move!”

“He just saved that boy’s life,” a voice from behind them suddenly cut in. Matteo’s heart skipped a beat when he turned around and saw David moving to stand beside him, his shoulder brushing against Matteo’s. “Would you prefer it if he did nothing?” he spat, brown eyes flashing with anger. “I know you don’t care about the boy’s life, but I’m sure you know that all that yarn that was in there would have been ruined.”

For a few seconds, all the supervisor did was stare. Finally, he snapped, “Back to work, all of you. The next one to try and argue will not be paid this week.”

The small crowd that had amassed around them immediately dispersed.

Matteo could feel his blood boiling with anger as he abruptly turned on his heel and stomped back to his post. He could see the boy that had previously been inside the machine standing with his arms wrapped around himself, eyes wide and shimmering with tears, his skinny frame shaking like a leaf. Matteo forced a tight smile onto his face and lightly squeezed his shoulder in passing before he returned to his machine and picked up the thread again.

***

The rest of the work day passed without further incidents, but Matteo still felt slightly jittery by the time he stepped out onto the pavement. He was tired and shaken and he wanted nothing but to slip into his bed-

“Matteo! Wait up!”

Matteo ground to a halt so abruptly the man behind him almost ran into him. A few metres away, he could see David pushing through the steadily moving mass of people, smiling when he caught his eye. By the time he finally caught up with Matteo, his chest was heaving, his cheeks slightly reddened. “Hey,” David said, sounding a little breathless.

“Hey,” Matteo echoed, so quiet his voice almost got lost in the clattering of footsteps around them.

A woman bumped into David, grumbling a curse under her breath. He shouted an apology before he grabbed onto Matteo’s wrist and pulled him with him, away from the main street. Before he knew it, Matteo found himself in a narrow alleyway with no one in sight but David.

Blinking at him in surprise, Matteo asked, “David, what are you-“

“I wanted to talk to you,” David interrupted him. In the fading light, Matteo couldn’t make out much of his face, but he could see the excited glitter in David’s eyes. “About earlier.”

Matteo leaned back against the brick wall behind him, unable to hold his gaze for long. “What about it?”

“It was brave,” David said. “Speaking up like that to save the boy from getting hurt. I have never seen anyone do something like that around the factory.”

Matteo was silent for a moment, kicking at a pebble with his shoe. Eventually, he murmured, “I almost got crushed in one of those things, when I was younger.”

It wasn’t an explanation, or even really an answer to what David had said, but when Matteo glanced up at him, the other boy nodded like he understood nevertheless. His voice was soft when he said, “There need to be more people like you.”

“People like what?” Matteo quietly asked.

The corner of David’s lips lifted into a small smile. “People who care. People who will stand up for what’s right.”

Matteo swallowed, his eyes drifting to the ground again. Something about the way that David was looking at him made his guts squirm; there was something curious about his gaze, like he was searching for something. Matteo was suddenly aware of how quiet it was, how there was no one else near but David. David who was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. With an uncertain shrug, he murmured, “I just didn’t want that boy to get hurt.”

“I know,” David said, still smiling at him. “You did good.”

Matteo couldn’t help the small grin that flickered across his face at the unexpected praise. “You too. Thank you for, you know… having my back there.”

David only nodded and said “It’s no big deal” in a way that sounded like it truly wasn’t, like he really didn’t mind helping Matteo, someone he barely even knew.

They kept smiling at each other for a moment longer, until a dark silhouette suddenly stumbled into the alley, making them jump apart. The drunkard stumbled past them muttering slurred apologies, but neither of them was listening, both too busy holding back a giddy laugh when they met eyes in the dark and turned around, walking back onto the main street together.

***

After that conversation in the alley, something was different. At first, Matteo thought he was imagining things, wishful thinking and all, but the longer it went on, the more certain he got that it was real. David was paying more attention to him. It wasn’t in obvious ways -their routines and the constant company permitted that-, but it was in small gestures.

Like when David met his eyes the moment he entered the floor to shoot him a smile that was so brilliant that it made Matteo’s knees feel a little weak. Or when he sidled up next to him when they were leaving the factory in the evening, shoulders and knuckles brushing against each other in ways that seemed too deliberate to be accidental, especially with the smile that David would shoot him when Matteo would dare to glance at him, bright and unapologetic. However, Matteo’s favourite change by far were the breaks.

Matteo had been surprised the first time that David had stepped into the alley behind the factory with his lunch in hand and a “Mind if I join you?” that made it clear that David knew the answer already. They were usually alone, just the two of them sitting on the ground with their backs against the factory hall, faces tilted upwards to soak in every bit of daylight they could before they had to go back inside. Those few minutes with David felt like a dream as soon as he was back at the machine, something a little too good to be true. Even while he was sitting next to him, studying the way the sunlight made his brown eyes look like amber, Matteo couldn’t quite believe that it was real.

They didn’t always talk, often just sitting in comfortable silence away from the racket of the factory, but some days David would initiate a conversation.

“It’s stupid,” David huffed out that day between two bites from the apple in his hand. “All of this. It’s bloody stupid.”

Matteo only hummed in agreement, too focused on the spot where their knees were pressing together to be able to form an intelligent response.

David suddenly turned to face him, something intense flickering behind his eyes that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. “We’re wasting our lives here. We just- we go in here and work and work and work and in the end none of it matters. _We_ don’t matter. We are all just… _cogs_ in this goddamn machine.”

Matteo tilted his head, staring up into the clouded sky. After a few seconds, he asked, “What would you do? If things were different?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see David leaning back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. Finally, he said, “I would make art, I think. I would create something from scratch, just for me. Something that serves no purpose, something that’s imperfect or disturbing or strange. I’d make art and I wouldn’t care if I didn’t earn a penny with it as long as I felt something making it. Do you know what I mean?”

Matteo thought he did. More than anything, he could relate to the tone in David’s voice; the quiet longing for something so far out of reach it hurt.

After a moment of silence, David asked, “What about you? What would you do?”

This time, Matteo didn’t even have to think about an answer. “I would go home,” he softly said. “Back to the country.”

“Does your family still live there?”

Matteo nodded. “My father refused to leave the house behind and my mother…” He broke off. “It’s for the best she isn’t here. She’s too good for this place.”

“So are you,” David softly said.

Matteo couldn’t help the way his eyes widened at that. He wanted to say something, but before he could, the door next to them burst open and one of the boys told them that break was over and they had to go back inside.

Matteo could still feel the heat in his cheeks as he got to his feet and headed back inside, tentatively returning the smile David gave him before they parted ways.

***

Winter was nearing.

Matteo could feel it in the way his breath came out in white puffs in the early morning air and the way the chill began to creep through the cracks in the windows at night, making him shiver and curl in on himself on the thin mattress.

Back home, winter had used to be his favourite time of year. In those few months when the fields were dozing beneath the thick blanket of snow, he would spend hours at the window, looking out at the shivering trees and the icicles clinging to the branches until his mother called him to the kitchen. There, they would sit in front of the fireplace together, steaming cups of tea in their hands and their faces flushed with heat, and she would tell him stories until late into the night.

Now, winter was when Matteo’s bones felt the heaviest.

It was the darkest time of the year, both figuratively and literally; when he went to work in the morning, the sun hadn’t yet risen, and by the time he would drag himself through the big factory doors to head home, night had already begun to fall.

Normally, Matteo felt a dull sense of dread the moment he saw the leaves changing colour. But this year was different. This year, David was there. And as long as he stayed near him, Matteo told himself, the light would never truly leave.

***

It scared Matteo a little bit, sometimes. How a touch from David was enough to send him reeling. How his stomach churned when one of the girls waved and batted their eyelashes at David. How just a smile from him from across the factory hall would make him blush and grin and how he wanted nothing but for David to keep looking at him like that, like he was special and treasured and someone’s favourite.

The only thing that reassured him was that David really wasn’t faring any better. When he reached Matteo’s machine, he always had a giddy smile on his face and something honeysweet on his lips, his cheeks the same red as Matteo’s.

That Saturday, he came up behind Matteo and whispered, “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

Matteo shot him a surprised glance, his hands almost fumbling the yarn between his fingertips. Catching himself, he shook his head.

David nodded and turned around, but not without shooting Matteo another broad grin.

That evening, he caught up with Matteo as he was leaving the factory and dragged him with him by his wrist, away from the turmoil of the main street until they found themselves in a deserted alley similar to the one they had been in last time. There, David pulled Matteo down with him so they were sitting next to each other, tucked away in a little building entrance.

Letting out a breathless laugh, Matteo asked, “You really like your abandoned alleys, don’t you?”

David chuckled, lifting a hand to scratch at his neck as he glanced around. “I’ll admit I didn’t think much about where I would take you. Just that I wanted to be alone with you.”

That sentence alone was enough to make Matteo’s heart skip a beat. He swallowed thickly before he murmured, “Me too.”

David smiled. After hesitating for a second, he said, “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

Matteo looked at him in surprise. “What is it?”

“You know how we talked about how all of this is rubbish?” David asked with a vague gesture that seemed to indicate everything around them. “Turns out we’re not the only ones who think so. There’s a group of other workers from around here… A union that’s working to make a change to the system. They’re meeting twice a month. I was wondering… Would you like to go to one of their meetings with me?”

Matteo didn’t reply right away. He wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted; he wasn’t as driven as David seemed to think he was, didn’t really consider himself to be someone who was in any form able to change anything. When it came down to it, he probably wasn’t as good of a person as David seemed to think ever since he had seen him save that boy.

But then he looked over at David again and saw the hopeful smile on his face and before he knew it, he was nodding. “Sure.”

David’s smile widened into a broad grin. “I knew I could count on you.”

Matteo smiled back at him before a cold gust of wind suddenly blew through the alley, making him shiver.

“Are you cold?” David asked, tilting his head slightly.

Matteo nodded and rubbed his hands together in his lap to warm them up. He froze when a moment later, he felt a second, much warmer pair of hands closing over them.

David offered him an uncertain smile when he looked up at him in shock. Matteo’s fingers twitched for a second, as if they weren’t sure whether to stay in David’s grasp or to pull back. In the end, they only intertwined with David’s and Matteo returned his smile, feeling his heart racing in his chest.

“Thank you,” he dumbly said, not even thinking about the words that left his mouth. “They’re much warmer already.”

David’s response was a small shake of his head and a disbelieving chuckle.

Matteo didn’t know how it happened and who leaned in first, but a heartbeat later, their lips met and every coherent thought vanished. Instead, he felt warmth flooding his body, spreading from where David was still holding onto his hands into his chest and his stomach until all of his limbs were tingling with it.

Matteo had been kissed before, but none of it had ever felt like this. Usually, it felt like they were trying to _take_ something from him, like they were pressing for him to give something up to them. David was kissing him like he was something precious, something worth taking care of. Their lips moved together like they knew each other, and when David let go of Matteo’s hands, it was only to cup his face a moment later, his fingertips gently tracing his jaw.

Matteo didn’t quite know what to do with his hands now that they were no longer holding onto David’s, but in the end he settled on sliding them into David’s hair, carefully running his fingers through the tousled strands.

“I’ve been waiting to do that,” David whispered when he pulled back, resting their foreheads together.

Matteo couldn’t help but kiss him again. And then again and again and again, until they started to lose the feeling in their fingertips and David noticed how Matteo’s teeth were chattering.

When David gave him one last kiss before they separated, grinning against Matteo’s lips like he had won something, Matteo thought that he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this happy.

***

Things didn’t exactly get easier after that. Matteo still had to spend all day in the purgatory that was the factory and more often than not he was so tired he could barely stand. Still, now he at least had something to look forward to at the end of every day.

While he was at work, those evenings sneaking around sleepy backroads seemed like a dream, yet as soon as Matteo found himself there again, with a cold brick wall against his back and David’s fingertips burning through the fabric of his clothes, those moments felt more real than anything else.

Being with David made Matteo feel warm all the way into November. But as the trees lost their leaves and the thin sheets on Matteo’s bed weren’t enough to keep out the chill at night, the cold began to creep in again.

It happened slowly, like frost spreading over a field until all the seeds and ears and stems were suffocated beneath the ice. Matteo tried to ignore it; he simply kissed David a little harder, pressed a little closer, buried his hands in the pockets of his coat to try and soak up his warmth.

Of course, it didn’t take long for David to notice.

“Teo,” David chuckled on an evening when Matteo was particularly adamant on clinging to him. “Are you gonna let me go home?”

Matteo only shook his head and kept his eyes closed, leaning in for another kiss.

David indulged him for a few seconds before he gently disentangled himself from him. Matteo forced himself to open his eyes, arms falling limply to his sides as he slumped back against the wall.

David answered his gaze with a fond smile, but after a few seconds had passed, it was replaced by something that looked more like concern.

Taking a step closer again, he quietly asked, “What’s wrong?”

Matteo only shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself, shivering in the cold wind that blew through the alley. His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“You look like it,” David murmured, reaching out to gingerly caress Matteo’s cheek with his knuckles. The featherlight touch was enough for Matteo to close his eyes again for a second, exhaling shakily. Softly, David added, “I feel bad for keeping you up so late every night.”

“You shouldn’t. The nights with you are…” Matteo broke off, swallowing. “They’re everything that matters.”

Something flickered across David’s face at that, but it was gone before Matteo could identify what it was. After pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, David murmured, “We should head home. We can’t have you falling asleep at the worker’s union meeting tomorrow.”

Matteo didn’t say anything, simply let David lead him back onto the main street where their ways parted.

“Good night, Teo,” David said, looking at him with a smile and something a little sad behind his eyes.

Matteo wanted to beg him to stay, to come home with him, to not leave him alone while he was freezing from the inside. But he was tired and his tongue felt so heavy, so all he got out was a whispered “Good night.”

***

It was the day of the worker’s union meeting and Matteo couldn’t get out of bed. He wanted to, knew he had to. But it was as if there was a weight on his chest, something so heavy that it crushed the air out of his lungs and pressed him down into the mattress. He just couldn’t lift it.

He lay there, watching as the other men who he shared a room with got dressed in their work clothes and left without paying him any attention.

He thought about David and how happy he had been when Matteo had told him he’d go to the meeting with him, how warm his voice had sounded when he said _I knew I could count on you_.

Outside, rain was drumming against the window. Matteo imagined the workers hurrying through the bad weather to the factory, heads ducked and blinking against the rain, and felt worlds away.

In the gloomy light, he stared down at his limp body, held down by nothing but his own scratchy blanket. Nothing was stopping him from getting out of bed and leaving.

Still, he didn’t.

***

One day turned into two turned into three and Matteo didn’t leave the house.

He thought about how many days of work he had already missed and how he wouldn’t have enough money to pay the rent at the end of the month. He thought about home, about his mother who was probably worried because he hadn’t written her in weeks. Most of the time he thought about how David’s face had probably looked when he realized that Matteo wouldn’t come to the union meeting and he hated himself.

Finally, payday came around and Matteo knew he had to go out if he wanted to have enough money to buy food next week. Getting up and getting dressed seemed like impossible feats. But he did it. He planted both feet on the chilly floor and pushed himself up, he put on a new shirt and his coat and followed the grey mass to the factory.

The cold outside felt like pinpricks against his skin. He kept his head down as he walked, one step in front of the other, painstakingly dragging himself through the streets. He didn’t glance around to find anyone as he stood in line with the others and only looked up when it was his turn. After days of not using it, his voice was scratchy as he murmured his name.

“Matteo Florenzi,” the man behind the desk repeated without looking at him, flipping through the register in front of him. A moment later, he pushed four coins across the counter.

For a few seconds, Matteo stood perfectly still, waiting for the man to hand him the rest of the money. But then he only clicked his tongue and gestured for him to move along and Matteo understood.

“Is- is that all?” he asked, his throat closing up as he stared at the four little metal pieces glinting dully in front of him.

“Less work means less money,” the man said. He was still not looking at him, his voice sounding just as bored as his facial expression looked. “Think twice before staying home next time. Next!”

On any other day, Matteo would have argued, would have explained that he hadn’t missed a day of work in months. As it was, he could barely stop his legs from giving out beneath him at any moment, so all he did was pocket the four shillings with trembling hands before stumbling outside.

His vision was blurry, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and he only realised where he was going when he already found himself in the same spot that he and David had used to spend their break together every day.

Those moments in the sun felt like they were years ago. Now the sky was a steely grey and he was alone, no one there to witness as he slumped down the wall of the factory and drew his knees to his chest.

He was still clenching his fist around the coins in his hand. Four shillings. Less than half of what he would have made this week if he had just gotten up, if he just weren’t that messed up in the head, if he’d just-

“Matteo?”

Matteo’s head snapped up when he heard the all too familiar voice. David was standing a few metres away from him, his eyes wide as he stared at Matteo.

Matteo opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a dry sob, ripped from somewhere deep within his chest. A moment later, David was kneeling in front of him and it was all that Matteo could do to let himself fall into him while David wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, muffled against David’s shoulder. “I wanted to go to the meeting with you, I swear it. But then it was so cold and I just couldn’t- I just couldn’t-“

“Matteo,” David whispered. One of his hands came to rest against the back of his head while his other arm stayed around his shoulders, and Matteo was sure that he was the only thing keeping him together, that if David let go of him right then he would shake apart for good. “I don’t care about the union meeting. It doesn’t matter at all.”

Matteo couldn’t hold back another sob, his hands moving to cling to David’s shirt. “But I promised. And I wanted to be there, I wanted to-“

“It doesn’t matter,” David quietly repeated. He leaned back a little, just enough so he could take Matteo’s face in his hands. Wiping away the tears with his thumb, he murmured, “I only care about you. I was worried when you didn’t come to work.”

Matteo drew in a shaky breath. Softly, he said, “I thought you hated me.”

David’s eyes widened a little at that, genuine surprise crossing his face. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I…” Matteo broke off, swallowing. He suddenly couldn’t stand looking at David anymore, so he let his gaze drift to the ground as he whispered, “I’m not like you. I’m not a very good person, I think.”

David shook his head a little, gently tracing a finger over the edge of Matteo’s jaw. “Because you couldn’t go to work for a few days?”

Matteo felt his eyes burning at that. His voice was hoarse as he murmured, “Because I… I keep getting like this and I don’t know why. I always think it won’t happen again but then it does and it doesn’t matter how happy I am, there’s just this… This fog that falls over everything, all the good things, and I can never stop it.”

He broke off, a lump in his throat and his hands still trembling as he waited for David to speak.

David didn’t say anything for a few long moments. Finally, he used the hand cupping Matteo’s cheek to tilt his head a little, willing him to look at him. Matteo felt naked under his steady gaze, like David could see right through him, uncover every dark corner of his messed-up brain. But instead of recoiling in disgust, David softly said, “None of that makes you a bad person. And besides… You don’t have to get through it alone, you know, Teo? You have me now. You’re not alone.”

All Matteo could do was stare at David, his heart beating out of his chest. He had expected incomprehension, pity, maybe even disdain. Instead, all he found in David’s eyes was something so earnest and tender that it made warmth settle into his chest for the first time in weeks. There were no words for him to properly convey that feeling though, so instead of speaking he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to David’s lips.

David kissed him back just as softly and when Matteo felt his smile against his lips, small and delicate, it was like something in his chest loosened.

They separated after a few seconds, noses brushing against each other and their foreheads pressed together. Matteo still had his eyes closed and only opened them when David quietly asked, “Will you come home with me?”

“I’d like that,” Matteo whispered.

David nodded and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Matteo’s forehead. Above them, the sun finally pierced through the thick grey clouds, and Matteo felt his lips curving into a smile for the first time in days.

***

In his head, Matteo began to develop a list of things he loved about David. One thing was the way David looked when he was waking up on a Sunday morning, blinking sleepily into the sun before nuzzling closer against Matteo, loose-limbed and relaxed in a way he never was during the day.

Another one was the smile that appeared on his face every time he spotted Matteo around the factory, the one that was only reserved for him, and how he would press up close behind him and whisper something sweet in his ear that made Matteo blush and grin stupidly for the next couple of hours.

One of Matteo’s favourite things, however, was the way David was during the worker’s union meetings. Matteo had been nervous to go there the first time, and for the first few minutes he had felt horribly out of place between all these people who seemed so smart and passionate and who lost themselves in long speeches about social injustice and the exploitation of the working class. His anxiety had only calmed when he had glanced over at David and had seen the look on his face. There was a glitter in his eyes that Matteo had never really seen before, something so hopeful and excited that the future the men were talking about suddenly seemed possible. Everything seemed possible when he was with David.

“Something is changing,” David had said after that first meeting they had been to together, his eyes still sparkling and his voice a little louder than usual. “There have been strikes all over the country last week. The people are making their voice heard and soon they won’t be able to ignore us anymore. We just have to keep fighting.”

Matteo had nodded and smiled back at him at that. He liked the idea of fighting for a brighter future, especially with David. Still, at that point the fight he was most wrapped up in was one with himself. Being with David helped, but they both knew that it wasn’t enough to cut through the dark clouds hanging over Matteo’s head. There were still days where he felt numb and going through the motions of his day-to-day life seemed like a herculean task. But now at least Matteo had someone there with him, someone who held him when he needed it and helped button up his shirt when even that seemed too much, someone who reminded him that what he was feeling would pass, that it always did, even if it didn’t feel like it.

That day, Matteo could feel it. He stepped out of the house with a spring in his step, lips breaking into a smile as he walked up to David, who was waiting for him at the corner of the block like he did every day.

“Mornin’,” he murmured and leaned in for a quick peck, knowing no one was paying attention to them.

“Hey,” David said, smiling back at him and using a hand to push a strand of unruly hair out of Matteo’s eyes. “Ready to go?”

Matteo nodded and together they fell in step with the steady stream of workers heading towards the factory. Despite winter coming to an end, it was still cold enough for their breaths to come out in white puffs. Matteo shivered lightly, rubbing his hands together to warm them up, and David wrapped an arm around him as they stood in line in front of the factory doors. Tucked against his side, Matteo allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment, breathing in the crisp morning air and feeling David’s warmth seep through his clothes.

“Don’t fall asleep again, monkey,” David murmured into his hair.

Matteo didn’t respond, only pressed his smile into David’s shoulder and thought that maybe, just maybe, things were going to turn out alright.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos mean the world! you can find me on tumblr as chaotic-tender :)


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